The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-09-18

profession
society contingent that patronized Wailacks
Theater was out IN full force 1t was high noon.
and the packed throng waited impatiently the
coming of the bride. A nurmer OF voices. and
halt in the vestibule, told that something was
wrong. The gallant Lester. prepared to give
away his daughter with cheerful alac-iry, had
got out of his carriage and offered his arm 20
the festively arrayed Florence. when that Young
lady stopped. Where's the musicY said she.
Come on" said papa you are always late.
There's your cue. Go on. Don't keep the stage
waiting2D
II won't be married without music; was to
have a wedding march it's ashame; wont move
step" stormed the disappointed girl
"Oh. Florry, never mind-go on. pleaded
Sewall, with his prospective mother-in-law on
his arm.
II shan't.'
mothers hearth within pered Mrs Nallack.
well, it's shame. and I protest." flung
Florence. she started through the door. Spy
ing the leader of her fathers orchestra, Tom
lance up the aisle.
Pretty thing. this. Mr.. Baker, cried the
young lady; you promised to have the full Or
chestra and here there's not a"
The rest was lost. as Lester rushed her mp to
the altar and gave her away as quickly as he
could. Whatever DIR. Houghton said concern
ing the marriage relation, til doubtful if Flor
Wallsck heard it. She took mouthful after
mouthful of her bridal bouquet. and showsred
the petals her lace veil. AS she left the
chancsl rail. she took up the subject of her
wrongs and vowed it was case Of shameful
neglect that she, of all persons, should have to
be married without music
Then again. although the occasion was after
ward, the Wallacks figured in the Little
Church Around the Corner. There is no doubt
that Lester Walack loved Harry Mon
tague truly, and when that lameuted young
man body was brought here for burial Lester
was by common consent the chief mourner. He
called or his dramatic experience for proper
department.. 1t was the hottest day of the su.c-
mer, and, when the church was reached, there
in the broilipg sun. outside the door. was
mound covered with violet velvet EN- embroidered
in gold 1t looked like the baby elephant with
his trappings Oh. but, for all that. it was the
casket containing poor Montague, and the re-
markable pail had como from the theater.
Pretty soon Wallack, who had just arrived from
his yacht got all made up FOR the part, and the
procession started into the church First Dr.
Houghton; then altar boys, and then
the casket borne on shoulders. with next the
pall-bearers. A little space to give due effect,
and then Mr.. Wallack, dragging one foot after
the other in the true ipeio-dramatic style, his
eyes fixed. a black bordered handkerchief in one
hand, one black glove on, and its mate with
hat with weed plume upon it. carried in the
other. He spectacle of woe. and the sort
of one that provoked many concealed smile. L
don't believe any In the church that
day ever forgot the really funny business of
poor Montague's chief and sincere mourner.
But it was reserved for bride lately to suf-
Ger complication of accidents. and get
ried after ALL in that same little church. The
young lady left the house and got ten blocks
away when she discovered that she had not put
on her bridal veil. This was fool of VEIL
either. 1t was not the regulation square of
blonde lace, but lovely Brussels net, richly
wrought by the nuns in the Convent of the
Sacre Coeur in Montreal. Back went the bride
for this gorgeous portion of her raiment 1t was
thrown over her In the carriage, and the we'd
ding procession again started This time a
breath of air produced an inclination to sneeze.
The poor bride repressed it. but it escaped
last. and, oh, horror on horrors head! her white
satin waist split from belt to shoulder Here
occurred halt, this time at little shop where
thread and needle were obtained and the gaping
space, with difficulty, was covered. AT last,
much too late. that unfortunate woman reached
the church. In stepping neryously from the
carriage the lace bottom of an under pettcoat
caught the step, and she felt the fastening
give way. Every step up the aisle she could
feel that cruel skirt slip, slip, till she feared she
should have to step out of it at the
very altar. She took grip the
service she chung to it like grim death.
She let go for a moment to get her glove off for
she ring, and when she resumed her hold she
felt that il had gained on her. Like Florence
Wallack, she might have been married with the
Catecnisrn. the churching OF women. for all
she knew. She had these thoughts: "W1ll that
petticoat be dropped in the aisle. will shed
it on the sidewalk before the mob as l climb
into the carriage Is it the lawn skirt, with three
ruffiss of vaenciennes. or is 1t that little blue
embroidered cashmere ma made me wear so
wouldn't take coldF' The perspiration started
on her pallid brow, n she hurriedly made the
responses, and half fainting, made her way down
the aisle.
Don't lose your presence of mind. dear"
whispered the young husband.
''Its my petticoat I'm losing" returned the
lady. pettishly.
When once in the carriage, the sentimental
bridegroom pressed her hand and said, ''At last
the prize is mine"
She said the same thing as size kicked the
dreadful petticoat, under the carriage seat. 1t
was the wooden one. CLARA BELLE.